Chapter 629: The Cursed Throat Fleet

Upon reaching the deck, all the ragged crew members quickly bowed upon seeing this man, while the slaves, who were even lower in status than the crew, lay prostrate on the ground, too afraid to lift their heads—this clearly showed the man’s authority within the fleet.
“Lord! He’s over there!”
Following the direction pointed out by his subordinates, the man looked ahead and saw a gray figure walking along the coastline.
With his extraordinary vision, he could see that the figure was tightly covered in gray cloth—such concealment was typical only of runaway slaves trying to hide from the fierce predators in the skies.
“It must be him! Bring him here!”
Having almost confirmed the identity of the figure, the man gave orders. Confident that no one in this realm could match him except for a few select individuals, he wasn’t concerned about whether it might be a trap and immediately ordered action.
A small boat was lowered from the large ship, and two crew members carefully steered it toward the shore.
On the eastern beach of the Abyssal Layer 422, Donald, in the form of a ghoul in the White Kingdom’s castle, was unaware of what was happening. He suddenly realized that he was being watched by a fleet at sea, which had even sent a boat over.
He saw two ragged human male crew members—one steering the boat and the other waving a rope, shouting at him, “Hey! New runaway slave! Hurry up and get on board! Our great captain is waiting to meet you!”
Donald had initially planned to dismiss them easily, but after hearing their words and recalling Bachard’s instructions, he understood the origin of this fleet and realized they thought he was a human slave who had escaped from the rule of the Wolf King.
So, he came up with another plan. He reached out, grabbed the rope they were using to pull him aboard, as if to catch an animal, and leaped onto the boat in one swift motion.
“Let’s go!”
The two crew members, who had wanted to threaten the newcomer into obedience, were intimidated by Donald’s agile movements and unyielding presence. Without saying much, they rowed back to the fleet.
Once on the deck, he saw a group of fierce but ragged mortals staring at him. Most of them were humans, with only a few other humanoid races, and almost all were men—there were only a few strong women among them, clearly capable enough to hold their own among the men.

Obviously, in such an environment, ordinary and weak women could only become dependents of men or even sexual slaves, and if they dared to resist, their fate would be extremely tragic.
“Not bad at fighting, huh? No wonder you managed to escape at this time!”
The man in charge glanced at Donald curiously before calling over a tall and strong man and pointing at him, saying, “I’ll give you a chance. If you can fight my vice captain three rounds without being defeated, I’ll recognize you as the captain of a ship, in charge of the lives and deaths of its crew!”
Donald said nothing, which only angered the vice captain, who showed a vicious smile.
With his golden-level strength, he ranked among the top five in the entire fleet of escaped slaves—a strength forged through life-and-death battles. He believed even the strongest warriors from the main world, who were one level above him, wouldn’t be his match. Now, being looked down upon by a newcomer in front of all the fleet’s strongmen, he naturally wanted to teach the other party a harsh lesson.
However, Donald clearly didn’t take this Golden Sword Saint seriously. He could easily deal with such strength, but he had other motives for joining this fleet. Since his goal hadn’t been achieved yet, it wasn’t appropriate to reveal his true identity, so he merely displayed the power of a Silver Mage.
With Donald’s experience and skills, even with a level difference, he could easily defeat an opponent who relied mainly on physical combat using magic.
When he displayed the spiritual aura of a Silver Mage and easily outmaneuvered his opponent with a few low-level spells, the man in the highest position suddenly lit up and shouted, “Stop!”
The Golden Sword Saint vice captain panted heavily, staring at Donald with furious eyes, as if he wanted to devour him on the spot.
On the other hand, the man in charge smiled with interest and said, “So you’re a mage? Great! It’s surprising that you managed to escape from those werewolves!”
Donald replied coldly, “That person left this realm not long ago. If he still can’t overcome those stupid werewolf guards under him, then he deserves to be a slave for life!”
The man laughed loudly and clapped his hands, saying, “Good! Well said! I suppose you know my name—I’m Unos, the ruler of the Curse Throat Fleet. As long as you’re on my fleet, even that old werewolf can’t do anything to you! I decide to appoint you as my personal mage, with the same status as a vice captain. From now on, you’ll live on the flagship, providing magical support for the fleet at any time!”

Mages were extremely rare among their slaves. After all, with the King of the Werewolves’ abilities, it was difficult to capture many powerful mages in the material plane. Even if there were some, they were firmly under Yenogu’s control and would not end up in slave camps doing hard labor, leaving them with virtually no chance of escape!
Unos, the slave leader who controlled the fleet, clearly understood the value of mages, which was why he attached great importance to the silver-ranked mage disguised as Donald.
With the knowledge and power of a mage, his fleet would grow even stronger.
“Alright, now let the servant take you to your room to rest. There will be a banquet tonight to celebrate our safe return and the addition of a mage!”
With that, Unos ordered a servant who looked even more pitiful than the regular crew members to lead Donald off the deck and into his cabin.
Clearly, the captain of the Cursed Throat Fleet valued Donald, the mage, highly, as he was given a single room, though it was full of dirt and unpleasant odors.
In the harsh Abyssal Plane, having such a temporarily safe place to stay was already a great blessing—who had the time to care about cleanliness?
Donald, of course, wouldn’t let such trivial issues bother him. With a wave of his hand, all the dirt and odors in the room disappeared, and the air became fresh, as if he were in the open plains.
This feat left the servant in awe, deeply shocked by the mage’s power and magic.
After greedily taking in some air from the room, the servant respectfully withdrew, leaving Donald alone.
Soon, two hours passed, and the door to the room was knocked again. The servant came to inform Donald that the banquet was about to begin.
“It’s almost time,” Donald said softly. He adjusted his cloak, keeping his face covered, before following the servant to the main cabin.